


Under Wing

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Dragons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-05 22:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: Mick's dragon has come back. He wants to make an AC/DC reference, but the team's a little tied up.[based on new episode trailer, only with my salt and dragon poured into it. A lot.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what's going to happen in the next episode, although I'm very excited. But my salt has piled up again and I'm very Bitter. And I still love dragons.
> 
> Sorry you haven't heard from me in a while. I HAVE been posting works, just on a side thing for a different fandom. Hello! :D

"Snart."

Len looks at him. He's coiled on the floor of the church, casual as you like but for the ready tension in his muscles. Mick, kept against his side by his tail, tries not to grin stupidly at the familiar eyes.

"I think they get it," he says.

The dragon glances nonchalantly at the left wall. Only for a second, before he's back to staring at Mick.

"Yes, they are getting it," he replies. "What's your point?"

Mick thunks his head on the scarred iridescent scales. Their blue base has a silver sheen in the fading sun behind them. He hadn't expected to see them again―certainly not here, in World War II, especially with his memories intact. He'd played the Legion of Doom, because of course he did, so he could locate Mick.

Needless to say, he'd sneaked onto the Waverider while the team ran around the war-torn landscape and used his credentials as a member of the team to ask Gideon a few questions.

"Pretty pathetic," he'd said, "if you ask me."

Upon which he clarified that the team was pathetic for wasting his  _dear_ Rider's potential and downgrading him to a thug. That a lesson was in order.

Hence the current situation: with the team chained to the wall by Len's immovable dragon ice, and Mick tied up by a heavy tail and forcefully given the comforting shade of a wing and a few treasures Len had stolen while on the Legion.

" _Lenny._ " Mick can't help but sound fond. "We gotta do some stuff here."

"With the spear," Len says, "I know. I got a plan."

While that's probably the most reassuring thing Mick's heard all year, the team's a little skeptical.

"And what exactly is your plan, Mister Snart?" Rip demands, "Other than killing us with hypothermia!"

Len sniffs and lays his head on top of his tail, right in front of Mick. Mick grunts and obediently starts petting him.

"We do it Mick's way," says the dragon, "We burn it."

The team squawks. Protests fly like bullets―the spear is a mystical artifact, can't be destroyed, especially not with mere  _fire_ , no one knows what it would do, blah blah blah. Mick lays his forehead next to Len's eye and focuses on those great lungs breathing in and out. Music to his ears.

"Clearly you've never heard of Greek fire," Len says. Mick grins.

"That's not a real thing," Ray says.

"Says the man who doesn't think twice before abandoning his so-called partner. I don't trust your judgment,  _Raymond_." The name comes out as more of a growl than an actual word, Len's slitted eyes narrowing dangerously on his prisoner. "And if any of you bothered consulting Mick about it, you'd know that he knows someone who knows exactly how to make it."

Mick really isn't used to someone sticking up for him anymore. Len senses this thought from their reopened bond and growls again, aggressively nuzzling what parts of Mick's torso that haven't been swallowed by his tail.

Mick drapes his arms around Len's snout and lets him do what he wants. Despite what he said about letting the team go, he could really use a nap or three while he's under Len's wing. Everything is better here.

"Greek fire can last even underwater," he says, muffled a bit by the wad of scales in his face, "we can cast it way down deep in the ocean and it'll still burn too hot for anything and anyone to handle. No immortal bastard can get to it."

"You're forgetting the whole  _really powerful_ part," Jax says.

"The spear can  _manipulate_ reality," Len says, "doesn't mean it's an essential part of it. Besides―" he grins, three rows of teeth draining the color from Jax's face, "―you clearly don't know the Deep."

Mick helpfully adds, "Snart's ancestors came from there. He takes  _summer dives_."

Len smirks. "Not my fault my scales can handle the pressure. You want to hide the spear," he says to the team, "you hide it there. I know the best spot for it."

"If you say your cousin―"

"Relax, Mick. I wasn't gonna say that."

Mick relaxes.

"Luke is way better for this job."

" _That's not better, jackass_!"

"Uh, who's Luke?" Nate asks.

"After that," Len continues, "Mick and I are going back to Central. I've already made arrangements with my sister," he says over Mick's aborted argument, "Whole clan's planning somethin' special. We'll get you a nice, proper bed, and dig you a fire pit. I got some places you can burn stuff at, some big scale stuff. We'll go on heists together, just you an' me, and then with everyone else. You'll stay with us until you're full and happy. And after that, we'll see if the team finally appreciates you."

His voice has dropped into a purr, complementing Mick's own case of starry eyes.

"Lisa even made you a gold chalice," he rumbles.

Mick licks his lips. "In the den?"

"The one and only."

Damn it.

Mick looks to the team.

Len snarls and shoves his head at him. "Don't look at them. They don't get to make decisions for you anymore. I made  _you_ the offer.  _You_ decide."

It comes out before Mick can stop it: "I wanna go home."

He sounds like a lost child. It's embarrassing. It's true.

Len starts purring again. There's a familiar wash of cold; before Mick can so much as shiver, it's gone, leaving Len standing on two legs and holding out a hand.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Len asks.

Mick smiles, a genuine little thing, and squeezes his fingers. His dragon hauls him up no problem.

"Let's go," Len says.

"Lenny."

"Yes?"

Mick jerks his head at the chains.

Len gives him an innocent look that's just  _wrong_ on his face. "I don't see why we can't leave 'em a while."

" _Snart_."

**Author's Note:**

> Luke is enjoying his new toy.


End file.
